


Clinch

by deadlifts



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Size Kink, Sparring, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24738964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadlifts/pseuds/deadlifts
Summary: Felix and Raphael spar. It leads to other things.
Relationships: Raphael Kirsten/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 28
Kudos: 96
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Clinch

**Author's Note:**

> For the [FE3H Kink Meme](https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=1515228).
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> Felix finds himself getting super turned on while sparring with Raphael, and Raphael is happy to indulge Felix’s size queen curiosity.

It begins with a piece of meat. 

Large, thick, and juicy, laid out like an offering, enough to make anyone's mouth water after weeks of being unfulfilled. 

And, to Raphael's apparent dismay, singular. 

"Only one?" he asks as Felix picks up the plate and begins carrying it to the table. Raphael follows him. "How can there only be one?" 

"You know we have a supply shortage," Felix replies impatiently. "We talk about it every war council meeting." He takes a seat at a table, setting his plate and utensils down. Unfortunately, Raphael sits across from him and eyes the meat with longing. 

"I know! But there's no way that's all they got from the deer Leonie hunted. Deer are bigger than that!" 

"Of course there was more," Felix says, picking up his knife and fork and cutting off a slice of the meat. "Hours ago." 

Raphael groans and lays his head on the table, which is awkward for Felix to observe. He's so tall that he looks more hunched than relaxed, and his bulk threatens to tear his shirt, the fabric stretched thin. "I can't survive without meat." 

"I have no sympathy for you," Felix informs him, holding the fork up to his mouth. The meat even smells good, fresh and adequately spiced thanks to the professor's work in the greenhouse. "You should have arrived earlier." 

"I had to write my little sis so I could get a letter out today," Raphael laments to the table. 

Felix's mouth is open. He's about to push the meat into it so he can finally savor it, feel the weight on his tongue, the taste of everything that he has missed since returning to the monastery. The truth is, he is as starved for meat as Raphael, and he wants to waste no time talking when he could be swallowing. 

But he pauses. "Your sister?" He's aware of the reasons behind Raphael's decision to enroll in the Academy five years ago, but this specific mention tugs at Felix's attention and forces his interest in the excuse. 

"Yeah! It's finally safe to send her a letter." Raphael perks up as he talks, even fixing his posture in the process. "Isn't that great?" 

"Great," Felix echoes flatly. But he lowers his fork and knocks the meat off of it with his fork. 

"What are you doing?" Raphael asks, hope raising the pitch of his voice. 

It's pathetic, and Felix is a fool for indulging it. He'd never admit it, but even after all this time, with the war claiming his attention and a choice he made five years ago changing the entire course of his life, he still thinks of Glenn when the topic of siblings comes up. 

He slices his knife right down the middle of the meat while Raphael gasps in earnest surprise. "I'll give you this," Felix says, turning the plate to indicate one of the halves. "If you agree to spar with me." 

"Really?" Raphael asks, wide eyes looking a little glassy. "You don't have to give me meat to get me to spar with you. You could just ask! I always want to train." 

Felix sighs heavily, already regretting this decision. "Are you agreeing or not?" 

"I am!" Raphael hurries to respond. "I agree, I agree." 

They share the meat. 

* * *

Felix knows a decent amount about brawling. Back before the war, he studied it from time to time, thinking that he should always be ready for a fight, whether he had a weapon in hand or not. It isn't his best-honed skill, but he _can_ fight with his hands and he knows a few combat arts. He's rusty, though, and that's why he tells Raphael they should brawl — so he can practice and improve. 

"Alright!" Raphael agrees enthusiastically. "I won't go too easy on you." 

"Don't go easy on me at all," Felix snaps back. 

Then they begin, circling each other as they work out an opening. Felix is the first to strike, a jab aimed right at Raphael's jaw, from which Raphael ducks away. Raphael counters with a jab of his own that connects with Felix's jaw, but only barely; the impact isn't enough to stun him. 

They back off again, and Felix feels himself smirking in response to the challenge. It's been too long since he's sparred simply for the sake of sparring; these days, all his fighting is focused on improving his prowess in battle for the war. 

As they rush toward each other again, he feels a thrill for the first time in recent memory. Raphael seems equally excited, his grin almost distracting in how openly happy it is. 

They exchange blows again, this time Felix grazing Raphael's cheek with his fist, and Raphael socking him in the stomach. Felix grunts and attempts to side-step, but Raphael grabs him by the back of the neck, pulling him into a clinch. 

Felix and Raphael are so close, their bodies are touching, and Felix can both feel and hear Raphael panting with the effort of keeping him from breaking free. Felix tries to pull out of it, but Raphael keeps them pressed together. When Felix attempts to shift again, Raphael shoves his leg between his and keeps him from moving. 

Felix strikes at his side, punching his ribs, but Raphael is hardly fazed. Then, just as Felix is attempting to adjust to strike him elsewhere, Raphael shoves him, grabs him along the middle, and throws him to the ground. 

The air is effectively knocked out of his chest, Felix doesn't have the wherewithal to react until Raphael is on top of him, maneuvering his body so that he's wrapped around Felix entirely, pulling him into a spinal lock. It's painful — Felix's body protests against being stretched at a strange angle, the pressure of the hold forcing him beyond discomfort and into an instinctual panic — but he refuses to give in, attempting to free himself any way he can. 

"Tap out," Raphael tells him, voice strained by holding Felix through his struggles. 

"N-no," Felix forces out, his teeth clenched. 

"Felix, tap out," Raphael says again, more panicked. 

He tries again to remove himself from the hold, but fails. Raphael tries not to pull too hard on his body, but Felix can feel him shaking with the effort to keep the hold safe. 

He taps out. 

Raphael sags against him, breathing heavily. Each rise and fall of his chest reminds Felix of their proximity — of the contact of their bodies. It reminds Felix of how just a moment ago, Raphael had him completely overpowered. And it makes him embarrassingly hard, the combined challenge with the intimate method of fighting stirring an interest that Felix does his best to suppress. 

Raphael attempts to detangle himself from Felix, but his leg brushes against his groin in the process. "Oh," he says, surprised. 

"Shut up," Felix warns, feeling his face heat. 

"Why?" Raphael asks as he sits up. "That's nothing to be ashamed of! It happens sometimes." 

Felix stands, then folds his arms. "Are you going to sit there all day or are we going again?" 

They fight again, only this time, Felix is hyper-aware of every contact he has with Raphael — the way Raphael grabs his neck or arm during a hold, the way they move against each other as they try to get the upper hand. 

Raphael keeps winning, which has the combined effect of frustrating Felix and arousing him to such an extent that his form begins to fail. He doesn't know why he can't get control of himself, but there's something about Raphael being so confident in his skills, and being so effective in overpowering him every single time, that has Felix thinking about being overpowered in other ways. It doesn't help that they're both covered in sweat, that the dampness of Raphael's shirt outlines just how large his muscles are, and that Felix has to observe those muscles grow taut with tension every time Raphael proves his strength. 

It's stupid, pointless, and not at all the reason he requested his brawl. 

It's also obvious. Felix has gone from hard to _painfully_ hard, and the next time Raphael takes him down, he makes the mistake of shoving his knee between Felix's leg, and Felix gasps. 

"Sorry," Raphael apologizes, looking sheepish as he loosens his hold on Felix. "Do you, uh, need to take care of that?" 

Felix gives him a curt nod and hopes that the flush he knows colors his cheeks is dismissed as the result of exertion. "There is little point in fighting if I'm distracted," he says, keeping his voice steady, forcing some disdain into his tone. 

Raphael stands and offers his hand to help Felix up. Even though he knows he should shun him, Felix grasps it and allows Raphael to pull him up. It takes effort to let go of his hand and step back out of Raphael's space. 

"Do you want help?" Raphael asks, like it's not at all a strange thing to offer. 

"Why would I agree to that?" Felix asks. 

"Because it's better with a friend!" Raphael explains. "And you helped me with the meat, the least I can do is help you!" 

It doesn't surprise Felix that Raphael is as enthusiastic about this as he is eating meat or training. What does surprise him, however, is that he thinks that Felix will agree to it. 

More than that, Felix is surprised by how much he wants to agree. 

"Fine," he relents. "But quickly." 

"You got it." Raphael hurries to gather some training dummies and strategically place them against the doors so no one can enter. Felix watches with raised eyebrows — he's clearly done this before. 

"There," Raphael says when he's done. "That way you don't have to walk anywhere with that." He gestures to Felix's crotch. 

Raphael then retrieves a vial of sword oil from the weapon stacks. "Let me just —" he begins, eyebrows furrowing as he opens it and begins to coat his hand. 

"Wait — what are you doing?" Felix asks. They're still standing around and clothed — Raphael is skipping some steps. 

"I'm gonna jerk you off. Gotta get my hand nice and slick." 

"That isn't —" Felix tries to explain, but frustration and embarrassment fumble the words on his tongue. "I don't — want that." 

Raphael frowns at him. "I thought —" 

Felix clenches his teeth, not knowing how to put it to words — that it's the size and power of Raphael's body that has him in this position in the first place, that he wants to _feel_ that as he had during sparring. 

That he wants to be fucked. 

He looks away. 

"Oh, I get it!" Raphael exclaims. "You want to have sex. Sure, we can do that." 

"Just get undressed," Felix mutters, turning around to do the same. He pulls off his clothes and folds them in a pile. When he turns around, Raphael is completely nude, too. Felix’s stare dips and — 

_Oh_. 

Felix no longer has eyes for Raphael's large frame, for the muscles that threaten to burst from his skin. All he can look at is how big Raphael is — his dick is long, with so much girth, that Felix isn't even sure he'll fit, no matter how much oil they use. 

Naturally, that makes him determined to try. 

Raphael grins at him. "You look good," he says. "I always wondered what you looked like under all those clothes. You got good muscle!" 

Felix rolls his eyes. "Let's get this over with." 

"How do you want me?" Raphael asks. 

"We can't lie on this floor," Felix says, grimacing at the thought. They spend enough time in grime on the battlefield; there’s no need to do so at the monastery as well. "I suppose we have no choice but to use the wall." Where Felix can be completely covered by Raphael — held tightly against the stone. 

"You got it." 

Felix walks over to the wall and presents himself in front of it — faces the stone so he doesn't have to look at Raphael, or have Raphael look too closely at him. Raphael comes up behind him and embraces him, his arms enveloping Felix, his legs spread on either side of him. 

Felix doesn't mean to, but he shivers as Raphael tightens the hug, as he senses a hint of his strength in the embrace — feeling small in comparison. His cock, having begun to grow flaccid during all of the back-and-forth, twitches with renewed interest. 

"There you go," Raphael murmurs, rubbing his cock along the crease of Felix's ass. He pulls Felix’s hips toward him; there’s no force behind it, but Felix inhales sharply at the idea that there could be. "Relax." 

"Stop talking," Felix says, breathless with anticipation. "You're ruining it." 

Raphael laughs. He pulls back and Felix hears the vial pop open. Then he feels Raphael's fingers spread him, find his hole, and rest there. 

"What are you waiting for?" Felix asks. "Didn't I tell you not to go easy on me?" 

"This is for me too, you know," Raphael tells him, his tone amused. "I have things I like." 

"Like what?" Felix asks dryly. 

"Like this." Raphael eases the tip of his finger into Felix's hole and presses in excruciatingly gently. Then pauses. 

And Felix, so help him, _whines_ , the sound weak but audible. He splays his hands on the wall, needing the support to stay standing. 

"I like it when you're yourself," Raphael adds, pressing in a little more and pausing again. 

"What do...you know about —" Felix attempts, and fails, to communicate. He tries to act defiant, but all he wants is for Raphael to move his finger. 

Raphael finally does, pushing it all the way inside this time, the shock of the motion eliciting another gasp from Felix. 

"How's that?" 

"More," Felix demands. It's not enough — he needs to feel the burn of being opened, needs to be spread wide enough to accommodate all of Raphael. 

Raphael slowly begins to push another finger inside, leaning in again as he does so, his free hand moving over Felix's arm. "You like this, huh?" he asks once his hand is covering Felix's. "Feeling small." 

"Fuck you," Felix replies, which means _yes_. The end of the last syllable breaks off into another whine because Raphael pulls his fingers back, then pushes them in again with more force — and again, and again, and then he's added a third, and Felix feels so full, so tense, that he doesn't know how he'll fit Raphael's cock without downright sobbing. His legs shake as the intensity of the feeling builds, making him want to touch himself to release it. 

But he won't give into that urge; he won’t back down. 

"One more, you can do it," Raphael encourages him. His enthusiastic voice isn't affected by what he's doing; Felix would wonder if he were truly turned on at all, if he had the wherewithal to do so. If Raphael wasn't pressing another finger inside and making his knees give out. 

Seeing Felix grow unsteady, Raphael wraps his arm around his waist instead, giving him a little tug to keep his ass accessible. Meanwhile, he moves his fingers inside of Felix, opening him up and causing a rippling yearning to spread throughout Felix's core. 

"Enough," Felix whimpers, forehead coming to rest against the stone. "I'm ready." 

"Are you sure?" Raphael asks. 

"Don't make me — _ah!_ " Felix's words are cut off by the way Raphael maneuvers his fingers, finding a spot within him that makes Felix forget how to speak. 

Then Raphael pulls his fingers all the way out, leaving Felix breathless with unsatisfied need. 

While Raphael coats himself with the oil, Felix spreads himself along the wall again, determined to remain standing on his own accord, without Raphael's assistance. He tilts his hips back, waiting. 

"This is fun," Raphael tells him when he's done lathering himself. He presses himself against Felix as he had earlier, only now his cock is slick as it slides along his ass. 

"You talk too much," Felix complains, pressing his ass back against Raphael. 

Raphael places one hand on his hip. The other he uses to guide his cock to Felix's hole, keeping it steady as it applies pressure. 

Immediately, Felix knows that this is going to be too much. As soon as Raphael begins pushing into him, he feels the burn of being stretched, widened beyond his perceived capacity. He gasps desperately, and mindlessly attempts to press himself flat against the wall, but Raphael keeps a tight hold in his hip, his strong grip preventing Felix from jerking away. 

"You're doing good," Raphael tells him, to Felix's combined shame and pleasure. 

"I'm — I'm taking —" Felix attempts to say, but he feels more of Raphael pushing in, filling him up, that he can't hold back a long, loud moan. "— all of it," he finishes, no strength in his words. 

"Yeah you are," Raphael agrees, and now he, too, sounds as though he's under the strain of pleasure, his enthusiasm giving way to a guttural grunt. 

Felix curls his hands against the stone and clenches his teeth as Raphael finally pushes the rest of the way in. It feels overwhelming, too far from pleasure, too intense — 

"You did it," Raphael murmurs, his words breathy as he stills to savor the heat of Felix's body. He moves his hand from his cock to Felix's other hip. 

Felix only manages a groan in response. 

Then Raphael begins to thrust into him — slowly at first, which gives Felix's body time to adjust, to move from the feeling of pain to pleasure as it relaxes to accommodate Raphael. Felix begins to relish each roll of Raphael’s hips, the way he takes his time sliding in and out. Raphael must be able to tell, because he then begins to fuck Felix in earnest. 

He pulls back, then pushes in, harder and harder as Felix gasps and pants, the combined size of Raphael's cock and force of his thrusts giving Felix exactly what he wanted — the sensation of being overpowered, of being fucked into mindlessness, too overwhelmed to think about what he's doing. He now has the freedom to beg — to whimper _more_ and _please_ — to allow himself to forget how to stand as Raphael's body slaps against his. 

As Raphael's fervor mounts, Felix can no longer keep himself upright, so Raphael releases his hips to hold his body in place, his arms wrapping around him, which drives Felix further toward his climax, the tension of his pleasure building within him. 

"Touch me," he begs. He knows he could come like this, without being touched, but he wants to feel Raphael's hand around him, pumping his cock while he thrusts into him. 

Raphael does. He grasps Felix, the rough skin of his hand creating the perfect amount of friction. 

Felix is so close, _right there_ — 

And then Raphael grunts behind him, his thrusts turning erratic as he comes, filling Felix up even more. 

That pushes Felix over the edge. He tenses and cries out, coming so hard that his vision darkens and Raphael has to keep him from crumbling to the floor. 

Raphael is slow in releasing Felix, pulling out of him carefully. Felix regains control of his muscles and manages to stand on his own, trying not to look at the mess he made on the wall, nor acknowledge how he behaved mere moments ago. 

"All better?" Raphael asks. 

Felix says nothing as he walks to his clothes on unsteady legs. Thankfully, he wears so many layers that he can attempt to clean up and still leave the training grounds reasonably clothed. 

"I liked it too," Raphael tells him, even though Felix did not offer a reply. "We can do it again sometime if you want." 

"Forget it happened," Felix replies. 

"Aw, I can't do that!" Raphael walks over to his own clothes. "It was too much fun. Besides, you need to let yourself go sometimes. You'd feel a lot better." 

"I'd feel better if you'd stop talking." He begins the unpleasant process of wiping himself down with his undershirt. 

For once, Raphael does fall quiet. The two of them clean up and dress in silence. Raphael pulls the training dummies away from the doors. 

Then he stops and looks at Felix with an unusually serious expression. "Can we spar again? Or should I not talk about that either?" 

Felix looks back at him with only a little annoyance, his defenses still not completely back in place. "We use weapons next time," he states. 

“Deal!” 

And that’s how Felix ends up with a steady sparring partner.


End file.
